


And Deliver Me From Evil

by A_Death_and_A_Maiden



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Desire, Dubious Consent, Eventual Otabek Altin/Yuri Plisetsky, Everybody is Adult, Fluff and Angst, Lime, M/M, Russian Mafia, Slow Build, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-31
Updated: 2021-02-05
Packaged: 2021-03-17 20:55:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,212
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29106672
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/A_Death_and_A_Maiden/pseuds/A_Death_and_A_Maiden
Summary: “My treat,”- barked Otabek, finally finding his voice. He couldn’t believe his first words to this sex personified were as stupid as that and he nearly apologized for them.“Sorry?”- asked Yuri with such a delicate raised brow that Otabek felt a physical urge to lean over the glass table that separated them and to actually fucking lick the brow.“Coffee. My treat,”- repeated Otabek.“No, thank you. Being in debt to Otabek Altin isn’t a good idea, or so I was told,”- said Yuri and Otabek wanted to cry.
Relationships: Otabek Altin & Yuri Plisetsky, Otabek Altin/Yuri Plisetsky
Comments: 14
Kudos: 50





	1. Chapter One

And Deliver Me From Evil

_What would I do without your smart mouth?  
Drawin' me in, and you kickin' me out  
You've got my head spinnin', no kiddin'  
I can't pin you down  
What's going on in that beautiful mind?  
I'm on your magical mystery ride  
And I'm so dizzy, don't know what hit me  
But I'll be alright  
My head's under water  
But I'm breathing fine  
You're crazy and I'm out of my mind  
'Cause all of me loves all of you  
Love your curves and all your edges  
All your perfect imperfections  
Give your all to me, I'll give my all to you  
You're my end and my beginnin'  
Even when I lose, I'm winnin'  
'Cause I give you all of me  
And you give me all of you, oh-oh  
How many times do I have to tell you  
Even when you're crying, you're beautiful too?  
The world is beating you down  
I'm around through every mood…_

_(All of me by John Legend)_

Yuri entered ‘Eros Cafe’ and pushed down the hood to reveal his blonde hair in a pony tail held with a satin band, a few hair strands were loose and clung to his face like wet fingers and Yuri thought he needed to make an appointment for a haircut. Maybe he should ask Victor where he had his trims? It was seriously drizzling outside and Yuri got caught in the rain. Yuri hated rain. 

Yuri hated many things. Yuri hated Victor for making him promises Victor had, apparently, no intention of honouring because the silver-haired man jumped on the first plane to Japan when a lucrative deal with the Yakudza branch of the Katsuki family turned up. Yuri hated Victor when Victor came back from Japan with a sealed deal and a Japanese boyfriend who was Yakudza’s representative in Russia in tow. Yuri hated when Victor told him to move in Victor’s lavish mansion in the outskirts of St. Petersburg. Yuri hated when he had to leave his grandfather in Moscow and start working for Victor to pay an old family debt. Victor’s promises to train Yuri in speed driving and firearms was outsourced to a menacing bald man who told Yuri “welcome to the dollhouse, baby” and clapped a heavy arm on Yuri’s shoulder with a look that was a mix between pride and pity. Later Yuri found out his name was Yakov and he had trained Victor before. Yakov was a notorious sadist of an instructor but if Victor was set to keep Yuri in his inner circle, Yuri had to learn the ropes of the Bratva. 

Inside the cafe it was warm, cozy and the air smelled like coffee, like a lot of really good coffee and Yuri immediately felt a familiar rush because the level of blood increased in his caffeine and he needed an immediate fix. Yuri was just gaining his body weight under the watchful eye of Yakov but his blood pressure was inherently low and the doctors retained coffee on Yuri’s diet plan. Yuri looked around. The place was decorated in the style of Vienna cafes with a lot of furniture that was meant to look vintage, impossibly big and green healthy-looking potted plants that were meant to give the Orient vibes and a big mahogany bar with a mirror wall and shelves of bottles that was meant to take you by the hand and to lead to the land of Dionysus in no time and the bill that would inevitably come afterwards would knock an average hard working honest person out. Only this place wasn’t frequented by any average hard working honest people and it was a morbidly ridiculous insult to even have an attempt at the Orient in St. Petersburg and Yuri inwardly sighed. 

Yuri asked for a tall late to take away and looked around, more carefully this time. He’d never been to this place before, it was not in Victor’s zone of influence and Victor was guilty of many things but tacky decor wasn’t one of them. Victor had a very special skill,- he knew how to spend money. Yuri’s personal clothing style was offensive to the sensitive side of Victor Nikiforov that few people knew it existed and one day he had Chris, the Swiss bookkeeper of the Bratva, hand him a personal credit card for shopping at Nikiforov’s expense. Now Yuri was wearing a pair of Hermes leather riding boots with a flat sole and metal embellishments, a black pair of tight-fitting Levi’s that for once in his lifetime weren’t torn at the knees and a black over-sized Balenciaga hoodie with a front zipper without any branding on it and that outfit was the textbook definition of “How to look expensive” YouTube videos. Yuri had done his fingernails in light pink polish, he had applied pink lip gloss to his forever chapped lips and he also wore smudged black eyeliner. He knew he smelled like a rich bitch with his Baccarat _thank you Victor_ Rouge 540. 

There were important negotiations between Victor Nikiforov who controlled the Russian part of the city and Otabek Altin who controlled the Asian part of the city. To dip his toes in murky water of the Bratva dealings, Yuri was tasked with delivering Victor’s initial proposal to Otabek at the Asian front in the “Eros Cafe”, he would have to wait for Otabek’s response and then deliver it to Nikiforov like a well trained fucking postal pigeon. Yuri noticed that Otabek was sitting at one of the tables in the further end of the establishment that guaranteed him a good observation point of the place. Yuri hadn’t met Otabek Altin before but there was something about the way this brooding man with brown eyes, black hair in an obviously fresh undercut and bronze skin commanded the universe about him that singled him out from the rest of the public like a sticking sore thumb.

What was your second clue, Plisetsky? The bodyguards in plain clothes, who were hovering around the area the dark man was seated, were painfully trying to blend in and terribly failing. Yuri sighed again but he didn’t bitch, Otabek Altin’s security flaws were not his responsibility. He fingered a sealed yellow envelope and approached Otabek’s lair, or was it den? Yuri walked up slowly with a gait of a cat because fuck knows what Otabek’s bodyguards may be thinking.   
“Otabek Altin?”- said Yuri as he had managed to cross the distance successfully and now was standing in the hearing distance from the other man,- “I believe I have something for you.” 

Otabek looked up at the source of the voice from his smartphone and inwardly died a little because the object of his wet dreams was now living and breathing before him. He had never met the blonde before and, honestly, had he met him before he would have been on top of the blonde with his tongue stuck in the blonde’s mouth because everything he had been praying for in a lover had just materialized before him. The smartphone nearly slipped away from Otabek’s fingers and he tried to breathe evenly and focused on a yellow envelope that a pale delicate hand was holding before his eyes. He nodded in acknowledgment and took the envelope, a stark contrast with his bronze paw of a bear to a white hand of an elf. Otabek had been expecting Yuri Plisetsky ‘The Russian Punk’, a lackey of Nikiforov’s, as he had been informed by his sources but perhaps this was the time for an early annual appraisal of the people who worked for him because nobody had warned him of Plisetsky’s unearthly beauty. 

Otabek died a little more when ‘The Russian Punk’ unceremoniously unzipped his hoodie and sank on a couchette before him, crossing his impossibly long legs on the knees, taking a smartphone and busying himself with whatever he was digging when all Otabek could think was if those hips in front of him can manage a good grip of his waist. A waiter brought a plastic cup of coffee for the blonde man and put it on a small glass table in front of him. Yuri picked up his coffee and started sipping it without breaking the eye contact with his phone, his pink tongue licking the corners of his lips for any milk foam and Otabek died even more when he felt kick cock twitch. 

When Yuri unzipped his hoodie, he got to reveal a white Gucci T-shirt with a loud logo (because Yuri wasn’t a total sell-out for Victor’s money and a slave to Victor’s scornful attitude to logo-mania) that showed his nipples against the brand print because Yuri, by nature, was just a real nipple-Godzilla. Only when he finished his coffee and put down an empty cup did he realize that flashing nipples to a random stranger had been, let’s just put it politely, not a fucking brilliant idea. Otabek had finished checking out the papers in the envelope and started checking out Yuri. Yuri noticed how Otabek’s gaze zoomed in to one of his nipples and...what the fuck?...Otabek licked his upper lip. 

“That’s paid parking,”- said Yuri curtly and he quickly zipped up his hoodie. Otabek’s lips twisted into a feral grin and one of his bodyguards would later text his partner that the Ragnarok was impeding because Otabek Altin now had an actual record of a smile and four surviving witnesses. Meanwhile, Yuri wasn’t gonna put up with this shit any longer. 

”He wants those papers back right away. He’s not the patient type,”- said Yuri.   
Otabek nodded. While Yuri was on his phone for whatever reason, Otabek used his phone to take some notes and when he finished, he sent the file to a printer that was connected wirelessly to his phone and now his assistant Guang Hong came up with a printout and a memory stick with some additional information. Otabek put all of that into the yellow envelope and pushed it on the table towards Yuri. 

Yuri picked up the envelope, put it on his knees and took out a bank card from the pocket of his hoodie and scratched what looked like the remains of a bubble gum from it. Chase Sapphire Reserve Visa. Otabek’s budget for dating had just been increased tenfold and that Cartier bracelet he had already imagined embellishing Yuri’s beautiful wrist wasn’t even the first stepping stone but a mere zero ground. Not that it was gonna be a problem, but Otabek didn’t like surprises. He had never liked surprise birthday parties, surprise welcome parties, surprise family visits, surprise gifts and anything along the lines life threw at him while he was trying his best to duck it and to stay firmly on his own two feet. 

“My treat,”- barked Otabek, finally finding his voice. He couldn’t believe his first words to this sex personified were as stupid as that and he nearly apologized for them.  
“Sorry?”- asked Yuri with such a delicate raised brow that Otabek felt a physical urge to lean over the glass table that separated them and to actually fucking lick the brow.  
“Coffee. My treat,”- repeated Otabek.   
“No, thank you. Being in debt to Otabek Altin isn’t a good idea, or so I was told,”- said Yuri and Otabek wanted to cry.  
“I insist,”- Otabek said instead and waved the waiter with the bill away.   
“Oh...Okay,”- Yuri shrugged shoulders and stuffed the card back to his pocket. -”See you around.”  
See you in my bed, was what Otabek Altin wanted to reply but bit his tongue in time. He can wait. Some men are worth waiting for. 

Yuri said Victor wasn’t the patient type but neither is Otabek Altin when he manages to find Yuri’s Instagram account. It’s not private, so Otabek feels no shame by scrolling through Yuri’s feed which is ginormous. Otabek found Yuri’s selfie in ‘Eros Cafe’ in the background of the exotic greenery. Yuri had a pink hibiscus flower in his hair and a caption on his photo said: “Coffee time with a friend.”  
“My treat,”- said Otabek to Yuri’s photo and no, he didn’t even for a moment feel it weird to be talking to a digital image, -”my treat, always.”

This soon became a habit. 

Victor would whine and bitch why oh why did Otabek Altin have to nitpick at every single detail as if they were negotiating a bride’s dowry but what he didn’t know was that this was Otabek’s plan to keep Yuri returning. For Otabek, it was like taming a stray cat. They had been meting two or three times a week for the past month and Otabek feared the day he’d run out of things to criticize, Victor and he would shake hands and he’d see Yuri no more. Slowly, ‘The Russian Punk’ managed to get under Otabek’s skin, filter into his blood and became his favourite kind of heroin. Otabek got the gut feeling that it worked both ways, though he couldn’t be hundred percent sure. Yuri was difficult to read, so Otabek started to read Yuri’s wardrobe choices and, to his own surprise, there he achieved some noticeable results. 

Sometimes Yuri would wear expensive sportswear that screamed yoga (Otabek gave himself a mental high-five when Yuri’s Instagram that day said ballet), sometimes Yuri would wear his punk armour of spiked boots and choker necklaces and Otabek read that as getting up from the bitch side of the bed, sometimes Yuri would classic wear blue jeans and white T-shirts that did not, to Otabek’s disappointment, flash his nipples and Otabek wanted to take Yuri to Almaty to meet his parents. Yuri would strut into the cafe, head straight to Otabek’s regular table completely ignoring the bodyguards, give Otabek the envelope and busy himself with his smartphone or a casual magazine that may be lying around the area. Otabek nodded to his own satisfaction when he’d dumped a collection of the most recent publications ranging from finance to fashion in a sheer morbid curiosity moment to rack Yuri’s brain and Yuri picked up National Geographic. 

Yuri would order coffee somewhere along the way from the doors to Otabek’s table and it was another moment for putting Otabek’s appalling flirting skills to test. Yuri always ordered his coffee in take away cups as if he wanted to be out of this place as soon as Otabek handed him the envelope back, so last time Otabek took immense pleasure in observing a stunned expression on Yuri’s face when a waiter put a large ceramic cup of coffee in front of him and the sole reason for that was that the recyclable lid would cover the picture of a cat made in cinnamon on the milk foam. Yuri’s lip corners rolled up and little did he know how much Otabek wanted to lash onto Yuri’s mouth. After that, even though Yuri kept ordering his drink as take away, he would always get a ceramic cup with the cinnamon cat but he never complained about a mixed order and he, needless to say, never paid for his caffeine fix. 

The change from the take away cups to the ceramic ones seemed to have broken some serious ice between the two of them and there was more personal conversation along the business side of their meetings. Yuri’s crazy outfits after the first cinnamon cat were obviously put together to impress and Otabek could not wait enough for more. Yuri blew Otabek away with a V-cut sequin top in the champagne colour with three-quarter sleeves and a pair of white jeans, his outfit was completed with a pair of tennis shoes in the red giraffe print. His hair was pulled in a bun held with something genetically related to a chopstick and he was wearing a full face of make-up in the neutral nude colours.

“My 3 A.M. moment,”- explained Yuri when he caught flickers of amusement in Otabek’s dark eyes as the total weight of Otabek’s gaze fell on the sequin top. After that Otabek somewhat felt obliged to console Yuri with a silly purchase of his own.

“I bought a motorbike on Ebay without a test ride,”- said Otabek.   
“Savage,”- said Yuri and Otabek couldn’t agree more. The way Yuri’s tongue rolled in his lips at the prolonged ‘S’ sound would forever live in Otabek’s memory rent free. The worst part of the sequin outfits was that the sequins would tear and fall over the place. After Yuri had left, Otabek picked up the fallen sequins from the couchette and put under his tongue in a weird attempt to get a taste of Yuri. His bodyguards seemed about to have a collective stroke. 

Today was a total break from the script. When Otabek finished taking his notes and was about to hit ‘Print’ app, Yuri’s phone started ringing to...OK. There were some things about Otabek Altin, the epitome of cool, that the world was ever meant to know and one of them was that he immediately recognized the ringtone on Yuri’s phone-’Goodnight Julia’ from Cowboy Bebop anime. That made Otabek weak in the knees and he, mind you, was sitting. Yuri picked up, he didn’t even make an attempt to make this conversation private. 

“Katsudon, can you sort out your gay shit with Victor without me in the middle?”- unceremoniously moaned Yuri with the face of a mermaid who’d just been cast ashore, - “OK, I’m coming. Where are you?….Fuck, that’s gonna take me an hour in this traffic and I’m in the middle of something anyway.” He hung up and moaned again. Otabek Altin wouldn’t be where he was if he wasted good opportunities like this, so he sent a file to the printer in his office and felt his motorbike keys in the pocket of his badass leather jacket he was wearing that day.   
“Come, I’ll give you a ride,”- he said and he tried not to look how Yuri tucked the returned envelope behind the waist of his jeans and under the sequin top because for some reason Yuri refused to carry a bag. 

“Thanks,”- said Yuri and his eyelashes fluttered. His eyelashes fluttered even more when Otabek put on his riding gloves and picked up a helmet from a motorbike. Biker boots, a biker jacket? Right, a biker.  
Yuri had clearly assumed a car of some sort. Otabek sensed a clear hesitation on Yuri’s part when the blonde man was standing safe distance away and eyeing the motorbike suspiciously.   
”Is this the bike you got on Ebay? I don’t want to be your test ride. Maybe it’s got bad brakes or something. I’m not interested in becoming roadkill.”   
Otabek laughed although he knew he shouldn’t, he’d lose all the credibility in the business which was not all white and fluffy. 

“Don’t worry,”- said Otabek throwing one leg over the bike and handing Yuri a spare helmet. -”I’ll take good care of you.”   
That was clingy as fuck but Otabek’s common sense left for an extended sabbatical when Yuri secured his helmet, threw his leg over the bike and wrapped his arms around Otabek’s waist. Traffic was bollocks, so moments Otabek rode on the pavements that at this our were devoid of people as they mainly cramped on public transportation in the rush hour or their offices trying to wait it out and clock in some overtime alongside. Those moments Yuri happily squealed behind him and that was when Otabek Altin thought that was it, he was in love. He eventually parked by a sushi bar and watched how a dark-haired man with big square glasses and teary eyes hugged Yuri and they both disappeared behind the bar doors. He blinked a couple times in expectation for Yuri to come out and thank him for the ride but...Wishful thinking, Altin, Yuri probably already forgot your meager existence. He kicked the gear in motion. 

Everything had a start and eventually everything had a finish. Otabek Altin ran out of excuses for a deal with Victor Nikiforov that would make them both richer. Yuri was supposed to come and hand over the finalized proposal, which meant the visit would be short and possibly Yuri wouldn’t even order a coffee. But the reality was worse. Yuri didn’t show up at all.

“You are not Yuri,”- Otabek stated the obvious as he was eyeing a stranger with a red fringe.  
“I’m Kenjirou Minami,”- said the youngster and he handed a sealed envelope to Otabek. -”Yuri couldn’t come.” 

Couldn’t or wouldn’t, was what Otabek wanted to ask but just sucked in his cheeks. Lashing out at somebody he saw for the first time in his life was not gonna fix the open crack in Otabek’s life. He took the envelope as if it was the biggest regret in his life, strolled to his office, shut the door tight behind him, poured himself a glass of brandy and downed it in one go. Otabek Altin was Greek fire. After what was a very anachronistic 3 a.m. moment, he picked up his phone and dialed his associate in South Korea. Thanks to the new deal with Victor, Otabek possessed some valuable information that he could make useful because most of all, more than the surprise birthday parties, surprise welcome parties, surprise family visits, surprise gifts and anything along the lines life threw at him while he was trying his best to duck it and to stay firmly on his own two feet Otabek Altin hated to be disappointed. 

End Part One


	2. Chapter Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I don’t want to be here,”- said Yuri.  
> “There isn’t a place on Earth I’d rather be,”- replied Otabek but his hand was gone. Yuri just wondered if he’d need to ask JJ where he got his tacky as fuck tattoo because now he had to cover a third degree burn.

Yuri sure knew Victor Nikiforov was one old crazy rich eccentric geezer that was sappy in love with a man with confidence issues and body positivity problems but asking Yuri to meet him in the mansion office later tonight specifically wearing a sequin top (how did Victor even know Yuri had one?) was such a request that Yuri couldn’t find a word for it at his very expansive vocabulary. It was not helped when he saw Chris, Victor’s second in command Leo and Victor’s representative in the East market Mila waiting in the room adjacent to Victor’s office. Logic screamed to Yuri that their cover in China had been busted, logic whispered to Yuri that sequin tops had little to do with their Oriental affairs. 

Yuri politely knocked on the door, counted to three and pulled the door open, hoping that would give enough time for Katsuki to scramble himself from the floor but it was only Victor and him. Victor wasn’t looking himself. He silently motioned Yuri to approached and pointed to an empty chair before him. Yuri slowly sank into it and his heart started racing. There was a prolonged silence before Victor could finally speak.

“Our people in Beijing had a bad situation. We need to get them out.”  
Yuri’s heart leaped a little. Their people in Beijing were Mila’s partner Sarah with her brother Michele.  
“Yuri, we have to get them out.”

Yuri just nodded. Was there even a question in that? But sequin tops didn’t posses magic to extract people from another continent with a sheer power of invoking Satan. 

“We have to get them out but without Altin’s help it’s impossible.”  
Victor quickly leaned over and put his hand on Yuri’s. Generally, Victor Nikiforov touched three things: good clothes, good food and Katsuki, and Yuri was neither of them. Then, he let go of Yuri.  
“Yuri, I don’t trade my own people. Never. My people work for me and they are under my protection. They can rely on me always and they know I will bend my way backwards to get them out of China. I’ve already asked Altin for his help and his people are on it as we speak. But in return he wants...”- Victors voice trailed off a little but Yuri felt a knot tie in his stomach. Of course, quid pro quo, Otabek Altin needed something back from Victor in return for getting Victor’s people home in one piece and that was in some weird way related to a certain sequin top. Victor picked up a fallen sequin on the tip of his forefinger and stared at it silently for a long minute. 

“This decision didn’t come easy to me but Altin was very specific about his payment. Chris will give you a ride to Altin’s place,”- said Victor and he wasn’t looking at Yuri, he kept looking at the fallen sequin, -”and tomorrow Sarah and Michelle will be home. That’s all.”  
The dismissal was very clear but Yuri still felt he needed to unpack some things. How was his visit to Otabek and the return of Victor’s people related?   
And then his heart sank, his eyes widened and his mouth slightly dropped open.  
His visit to Otabek and the return of Victor’s people were very much related because Yuri was the payment.   
And then his heart sank again. 

Chris was silent when he was focusing on the road before him and Yuri was thankful to him for that. Yuri was nervously tucking at the seat-belt in the passenger seat when he caught a quick look from Chris that could be pitiful or angry, the emotional specter of the Swiss man was limited. Chris could multiply and divide numbers mentally at a speed of lightning but he was awful when he opened his mouth to speak and he had a set of most wandering hands. He dropped Yuri off by “Eros Cafe” that, now Yuri knew, was not only a cafe and a mafia front but also Otabek’s office and Otabek’s private living quarters. It was past working hours, the light in the cafe was seriously dimmed and there was a bodyguard at the front door who started speaking to his earpiece as soon as he saw Chris parking nearby. Yuri was clearly expected. Yuri blinked as Chris put his hand on his, just like Victor had done before, and there was a short squeeze. Chris nodded to him and Yuri opened the doors on the passenger side of the car. The bodyguard helped him to get out of the car but Yuri felt it was hardly a gesture of politeness, more like prevention from him bolting before ink could dry. 

Otabek was sitting in his usual spot in the cafe when Yuri sank into the couchette before Otabek. He noticed how Otabek’s nostrils flared. You seduced ‘The Dark Horse’ with your sequin top, giggled Yuri’s logic, with a stupid discount sequin top that you got online because you could not sleep that night, with a sequin top that was sexy like graveyard dirt. Otabek slowly got up, approached Yuri and extended his arm in a clear invitation. Yuri still felt Mila’s eyes on his back when Chris and he were leaving Victor’s mansion and that sealed the deal for him. He had to do it for Mila. He had to do it for his friends. Yuri got up to his feet and took Otabek’s hand. 

It was gonna be the biggest regret in his life. Bigger than kissing JJ in his new sports car’s after JJ winning yet another street race in the rain. Bigger than declining Chris’s offer to properly date him. Bigger than Lilia’s suggestion to put her name as a reference on an application for a dance student grant abroad. Spending the night with Otabek Altin was gonna be the biggest regret of his life because he wouldn’t be kissing Otabek on his motorbike in a rain, he wouldn’t be dating Otabek and he wouldn’t be putting Otabek’s name as a co-applicant for a new apartment loan. All because Otabek Altin didn’t ask him out before it was too late.

Yuri came to his senses when a heavy door shut behind him. He blinked and looked around. They were in a large and comfortably fitted bedroom. The colour scheme was simple, all white, beige and green. Heavy velvet curtains against full-size French windows. A silent traffic noise from the street. Dimmed bedside lights. Soft Oriental carpet under his feet. A large bed with snow-white bed linen. And Otabek’s hot palm on his back. 

“I don’t want to be here,”- said Yuri.  
“There isn’t a place on Earth I’d rather be,”- replied Otabek but his hand was gone. Yuri just wondered if he’d need to ask JJ where he got his tacky as fuck tattoo because now he had to cover a third degree burn.   
“Can I take a shower?”- asked Yuri, noticing an opened door to what may be a bathroom.   
“Anything you want, baby.”  
Yuri snorted. Baby? Seriously?   
“I understand how you feel, Yuri. I should have made it an option instead of default. But I think there was something between us and I want it to be good. If you aren’t comfortable, you have to tell me. Do you need anything?”

A key from the door of this room, thought Yuri but instead he shook his head, strolled into the bathroom and shut the door behind him. Then he slid down with his back against the door and started to cry silently. 

Hot shower helped him to clear his head. Did he really need to be such a cry baby? It was just sex. People did it every day. He would ride Otabek’s cock and Otabek would get his friends home. A fair exchange of resources. Victor was such a wheezier. Was it really so difficult to put ‘fuck’, ‘cock’ and ‘Otabek’ in one sentence? And Chris was no better, looking at him as if Yuri was gonna be deported to Siberia and this was their last goodbye. So what, that Otabek was interested in a one-night stand and they would not be joining Chris for his monthly barbecue night that the Swiss threw regularly for their small inner circle? So what, that they wouldn’t be joining Victor and Katsuki on the weekend fishing trip in the wilderness and make fresh fish soup on fire? So what that they wouldn’t be joining the Crispino twins with their opera and ballet theater seasonal ticket booking? So what, that Otabek would never go with Yuri’s grandfather during the mushroom picking season and he’d probably need to ask JJ again because last time he had asked Katsudon and the Yakudza gangster nearly died from picking a poisonous mushroom?

Yuri showered until his skin turned pink. He didn’t track the time but Otabek wasn’t kicking the bathroom door open either. Yuri wrapped a big soft towel around his hips, took a look at his face in the mirror and wondered if Otabek had any alcohol in the room. If Otabek had any alcohol in the room, he showed no sign of that. He was standing in the middle of the room wearing the same clothes like before: a dark blue dress shirt, a pair of black pants and a pair of black dress shoes. Neat, respectable, reassuring. Everything that Otabek Altin was not. But Otabek was biting his lips and his eyes were nervously darting around the room. Oh no he changed his mind, thought Yuri.

Yuri crossed the distance between them in swift strides and took Otabek’s face between his hands. If Otabek got cold feet now, he could abort the extraction mission of his friends.   
“Otabek, I’ll come for you. I’ll scream for you. I’ll fulfill your dirtiest fantasies. You can have me in any way you want. Just get my friends home. Please.” 

Yuri dropped the towel from his waist, took Otabek’s face in his hands again and pulled Otabek into a kiss. He could feel how Otabek took a deep inhale and Yuri closed his eyes. He didn’t want to see the shadow of a doubt in those brown eyes. Yuri felt a rough tip of Otabek’s tongue run against his lower lip and how Otabek’s hot hands locked on his sides. Yuri thanked gods of all religions for a great relief when Otabek started gently guiding him backwards to the bed without breaking the kiss. Otabek helped Yuri lie down on the bed, broke the deep kiss and planted small gentle kisses on his face, neck and collarbone but then a strong shiver shook Otabek’s body and he hung his head in the crook of Yuri’s neck. 

OK Otabek Altin, if you were impotent that was a very bad timing to announce it, thought Yuri.   
“If you need some time or...ah...take a pill,”- God, this was embarrassing, thought Yuri as he spoke to Otabek,- “I understand.”

Otabek just chuckled into Yuri’s neck, then lifted himself on one elbow and wiped away laugh tears from his eyes with the thumb of his free hand.  
“Yuri, you can reanimate a dead man. I just...ah…,”- God, this was embarrassing, thought Otabek as he spoke to Yuri, -”it looks like I came just from kissing you.”   
“Otabek?”- said Yuri, biting his lower lip.  
“Yes?”  
“You are heavy.”  
“Oh!”- Otabek rolled himself from Yuri and settled next to him, pulling a blanket over Yuri.   
“Otabek…”  
“Shhh, not a word,”- Otabek placed his index finger against Yuri’s lips, -”I know what you are thinking. Your friends are onboard of my private plane, safe and sound. They’ll be landing in St. Petersburg in nine hours. And I want to apologize.”   
“For coming in your pants?”  
Otabek chuckled.

“No. For this,”- he waved his hand over Yuri under the blanket, -”I made a wrong decision at the spur of a moment and I came very close to regretting it. I was going to tell you that when you came out of the bathroom but you started kissing me and my brain just shut down.”   
“Victor scared the shit out of me.”  
“Let’s just say, there will be things to be made up between me and Victor. I owe him.”  
“What things?”  
“You don’t need to know.”  
“I’m not a child!”  
“I hope so. That would be really wrong of me.”  
“Shut up or I’ll use that sequin top to make you shut up.”  
“I really like that top.”  
“Yeah, I can tell. Don’t you need to use a bathroom or something?”  
“Oh, right,”- Otabek got up from the bed and picked up Yuri’s towel. -”Are you OK with staying the night here or do you want a ride home?”  
“When you say ‘the night’ you mean…”  
“Food. Film. Sleep.”   
“Sounds like a plan. But can I call Mila? Her partner is on your plane.”   
“Sure,”- said Otabek and disappeared in the bathroom. 

To say Mila was ecstatic and over the moon was to say nothing. Otabek was still showering and Yuri wasn’t sure whether to stay in bed naked or get fully dressed. But he was in Otabek’s bedroom which had a walk-in closet if the door opposite the bathroom was what Yuri thought it was and that was pure gold if the sheets of Otabek’s bed were real. Yuri had spent enough nights in Victor’s mansion to get a feeling of what real luxury was. He climbed out of the bed and pulled the mystery doors open. Sure thing, a light lit up (movement detectors, realized Yuri) and lo and behold was a walk-in closet. When Otabek came out from the bathroom with a towel around his waist, he found Yuri lounging on his bed in a pair of athletic leggings and an over-sized cotton shirt, Yuri was barefoot and his toe nails were painted in orange nail polish. Otabek smirked and disappeared into the walk-in closet; he came out in a loose-fitting athletic wear suit but he had a pair of socks on. 

Otabek brought a laptop with himself on the bed and started browsing his film selection. He also handed Yuri a handful of take away menus. Chinese, Japanese, Indian...Some menus had circles in a pen around certain selections and Yuri correctly assumed they were Otabek’s favourites and they settled on moderately spicy Indian food. It would take a while for the courier to deliver the order and Yuri’s stomach gurgled.

“Otabek, you own a fucking cafe. Is there any food in the kitchen?”  
“No. If we don’t sell out, we donate to a homeless shelter. Sure, there’s some food preps but no ready-made meals.”  
“What about desserts?”  
Otabek looked up from his laptop.  
“Yeah,”- he said as if he disturbed some order of the universe, - “we keep those in the fridges, they usually last a couple days.” He got up and shuffled out of the room. Of course, as the owner he had keys to every lock of the building. Otabek was gone for about twenty minutes and he came back with a tray of different assortment of pastries. Yuri didn’t hesitate to bite into a blueberry muffin in a size of a cat’s head. That courier had better hurry up. 

“Yuri,”- said Otabek as the initial film credits started running (they settled for a Batman marathon),- “I’m the creative director of this mess and I’m gonna suck at fixing it big time, but if you are not totally opposed to the idea of being seen in public with a moron, I would like to take you out sometime.”

I just hope you are good at knowing mushrooms and your credit rating for mortgage is excellent,- thought Yuri.

The End


End file.
